your skeletons lived in my closet
and your monsters in my head
the scars you left: reminders of
the empty words you said
but your mark is slowly fading
and my skin is healed and new
and now little bits of me replace the
fingerprints of you.
*****
YOU ARE READING
Where Poems Come to Die
Puisijust the little things that float into my head when i should probably be asleep.